


Dandelion Wishes

by KucatsHouse



Category: The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Domestic Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Happy Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, M/M, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood Fluff, Post-Book 6: City of Heavenly Fire, Post-Max Lightwood's Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-05 23:07:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20281366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KucatsHouse/pseuds/KucatsHouse
Summary: Magnus takes Alec on an afternoon outing that turns into a discussion about dandelions and a certain brother.





	Dandelion Wishes

**Author's Note:**

> Characters and original story the property of Cassandra Clare.
> 
> This story in pure fluff and was inspired by a piece of artwork by 9naska6 on Tumblr: https://9naska6.tumblr.com/post/174581772552/malecy-monday-and-they-just-cancelled-the-show

When your boyfriend was a warlock who could perform literal magic, you quickly got used to your life moving in ways you least anticipate. One moment you can be at home with a cup of coffee having a relaxing day; the next minute you find yourself halfway across the globe dining on exotic delicacies on the beach. Alec never knew what to expect when a certain whimsy grabbed hold of Magnus. All he could be certain of was that it was going to happen and it was better to go along with Magnus’ wild impulses than resist.

Not that he ever regretted following those impulses afterwards.

Alec had just awoken from a late night of demon hunting. It was nearly noon and he was looking forward to a day resting at home. The moment he stepped into the main room and saw the large wicker basket and folded red blanket, Alec knew Magnus had other plans.

“What’s all this?” Alec asked even though he had a decent idea. He leaned against the dining table as Magnus turned to him, a bottle of sparkling cider and two glasses in hand. Chairman Meow was busy investigating the contents of the basket and attempting to make it his new napping nest.

“This, my dear Alec, is a picnic basket,” Magnus explained as he placed the items he held inside and gently removed the cat, ignoring the indignant yowl of protest. “Because we are going on a picnic together. A date, if you will.”

“Does this picnic involve going somewhere with a dress code?” He really hoped not. Magnus was sporting crisp white slacks and a black tunic with gold embroidery on the neckline and cuffs. It wasn’t too fancy, but it was far more elegant than Alec’s jeans and rumpled blue tee. Magnus could just magic them up some elegant wear, but the Shadowhunter just wasn’t in the mood.

“You will be pleased to know it does not. It’s just you and me today.” Draping the blanket over his shoulder, Magnus snapped his fingers before hooking his arm through the basket handle. A Portal swirled into existence in the living room as he took Alec’s hand, linking their fingers. “Shall we?” Magnus gave a dazzling smile Alec couldn’t help but return as they stepped into the sparkling Portal hand-in-hand.

One minute they were in their loft in Brooklyn; the next they were standing on a quiet hill somewhere in upstate New York. Near Luke’s farm Alec guessed, recognizing the lake shimmering in the spring sun in the near distance. The weather was perfect, sunny and warm with just a hint of a cool breeze coming from the lake. The land was a wide stretch of green dotted here and there with wildflowers in muted shades of reds, yellows, and purples. The air was perfumed with the scent of green new growth and the approach of summer. As Magnus promised, it was just the two of them for as far as the eye could see. 

Alec stood for a moment in silence as Magnus began to set up the picnic. He loved the city he grew up in, but the quiet countryside of Idris always tugged at his heartstrings when he was there. Up here near Luke’s farm, Alec could feel that same tranquility. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, letting the breath out with a sigh. He felt Magnus grasp his wrist, tugging him down. Alec sank onto the blanket, feeling the tension in his body relax as a hand slipped up his neck and into his hair.

“Better than staying at home, right?” Magnus asked as his fingers made little circles on Alec’s skin.

“This is just what I needed.” Alec leaned his head back slightly, relishing the feel of Magnus’ fingers in his hair.

Magnus leaned in, kissing Alec on the cheek. “Thought so.” Handing Alec a glass filled with bubbling cider, the pair began to tuck into their meal.

Lunch was a simple affair, a charcuterie with a little bit of everything: salty prosciutto and thick slices of cured sausage; pâté and terrine, smooth in texture and spread over wafer thin crackers; cheeses from all over the world including cheddar, camembert, and swiss; and a colorful assortment of fruits and vegetables. Magnus and Alec spoke little as they ate, content in the company and the scenery, though their hands and fingers were always close, brushing frequently.

Afterwards, they sat together, sipping chilled mint tea as they gazed out on the peaceful scene in front of them. Alec leaned back on his hands, his shoulder lightly bumping Magnus’ as a breeze ruffled their hair. 

“Times like this,” Alec said in a soft voice, “can make you forget that there are such things as demons in the world. Up here, there isn’t anything to think about but peace.”

“I suspect that’s why Lucian likes to come here,” Magnus replied. He sat crosslegged at the edge of the blanket, long fingers absentmindedly twirling grass blades. “He’s got a point. Maybe I should consider investing in a secluded place like this and moving there permanently.”

Alec snorted inelegantly. “You won’t do it. You like the bustle of the city too much. Being up here too often will bore you.”

A feline grin spread across his face before Magnus leaned over, whispering a kiss across Alec’s cheek. “Ah, my dear Alexander, you know me so well.”

With a sideways smile, Alec sat up and leaned forward. The patch of grass in front of him was dotted liberally with dandelions, their puffy heads waving gently in the breeze. He sat gazing at them for a long while, blue eyes following their motions. After a moment’s hesitation, Alec reached forward and plucked one, the stem snapping neatly beneath his fingers. He turned the puffball to and fro, examining it as closely as he would one of his arrowheads.

“Have you developed a fascination with dandelions now?” Magnus asked in a teasing tone. 

“Not really,” Alec replied with a shrug. “It’s just…I don’t see them often in the city. And hardly ever like this.”

“New York is quite liberal with its weed killer, I suspect. Besides, there aren’t many green spaces for them to grow in.” Reaching forward, Magnus plucked a dandelion of his own. “You know, there’s a lot of myths and sayings about dandelions.”

“Like what?” Blue eyes glittered with curiosity. Nephilim were the living embodiment of myths and legends. They all had a fascination with such stories, and Alec was no exception. 

A twinkle of mischievousness appeared in Magnus’ green-gold eyes. “I heard once that if you can blow all the seeds off in a single breath, then the person you love will love you back. But if you leave even a single seed on, there will be doubt in the relationship.”

Something flashed in Alec’s eyes. His back straightened as a look of deep concentration crossed his face. He gave the dandelion in his hand a long, contemplative gaze before taking a deep breath and blew. A pleased smile split his face as he turned to Magnus with an empty stem, the seeds scattered to the wind. “Oh, well, look at that. Guess that means you love me.”

Magnus simply shook his head although he was smiling. He too blew on his dandelion; in triumph, he held up the empty stem before tossing is casually aside. “I suppose this means you love me as well.”

In answer, Alec leaned closer to capture his lips in a kiss. The caress was tender, just a brushing of lips, but it conveyed more emotion than any words Alec could ever express. Magnus sometimes called him a romantic, and maybe he was, but Alec never thought of himself eloquent enough for words. 

Alec’s smile was dazzling when he pulled back. He leaned his head against Magnus’ shoulder, threading his left hand through his lover’s. “Do you ever use dandelions in your potions?” Alec asked curiously as he plucked another puffball.

“Sometimes.” Magnus leaned his head against Alec’s as he spoke, his voice a soft, steady murmur. “They aren’t a common ingredient but it depends on the potion and what it’s for. Warlocks use plants with special meanings to enhance the potency, especially flowers. There’s a lot of meaning behind flowers, and dandelions are no exception.”

“Meanings? Like what?”

“They aren’t in the Victorian language since they were thought of as weeds even back then.” Using his free hand, Magnus started to tick off the various terms as he spoke, his voice taking on the timber and cadence of one with vast knowledge. “There’s the myth of love, of course. But they also mean growth, clarity, and healing. Because they grow in spring and spread their seeds in summer when the sun lingers in the sky, dandelions can also mean warmth, radiance, and illumination. Their ability to grow almost anywhere indicates positivity, progress, and survival.”

Alec was looking at the puffball in his hand with a newfound fondness. “So many words to associate with such a small plant.”

Magnus chuckled. “Never underestimate the little things.” He sat thoughtfully for a moment, his eyes gazing out at the lake. “I’ve also heard that the seeds can carry your thoughts and wishes to your loved ones.”

“Is that true?” Alec’s voice sounded skeptical, but there was something in his eyes, something that sparkled at the idea.

“Maybe,” Magnus said with a shrug. “As your people are so fond of saying, all the stories are true.”

For a long moment Alec didn’t speak. He sat nearly statue still, calloused fingers absently twirling the dandelion. His movements were slow, minuscule enough to barely disturb the fine feather-like seeds. After a while he spoke again; his question was simple, and his voice was low. “Even the dead?”

Magnus didn’t have to ask what - or who - Alec meant. It hadn’t been that long ago, and the wounds were still fresh enough to sting at the memories. Instead, he turned his head just enough to place a gentle kiss atop Alec’s crown of dark hair. “I like to think so.” 

As Magnus watched silently, Alec raised the dandelion to his lips and began to murmur quietly. Words of sorrow, of wistfulness and wants. Some words were said with pain and loss, but there were others full of hope and happiness. The last words he said were wishes for peace before Alec gently blew on the dandelion. He watched the seeds scatter, lifting in the warm breeze.

There was a movement out of the corner of Alec’s eye before tiny blue sparks like fireflies danced in the air from Magnus’ fingertips. The magic joined the wish bearing seeds on their journey, a cluster of them dancing pixies at a revel. The pair of them watched until the magic and seeds were long out of their sight range and the hillside grew quiet in the warm afternoon.

“Do you think he’ll get them, wherever he is?” Alec asked, his voice taking on a hopeful, child-like quality.

Magnus released his hand so that he may slip his arm around Alec’s back and draw him closer. “Don’t ever doubt it. Your thoughts will reach him.” He felt Alec turn his face into his shoulder. There would be no tears for they had dried long ago, but Alec still drew comfort from Magnus’ closeness.

They sat together in comfortable silence as the afternoon wore on. A sudden strong wind arrived, rustling the grass, sending more dandelion seeds scattering into the air. Magnus and Alec watched them float by, each of them silently putting the thoughts and wishes of their hearts into the tiny projectiles, and hoping beyond hope that Max could hear them all and know peace and happiness wherever he was with the Angels.

“Alexander?”

Alec, without moving his head, looked up at Magnus. “Yeah?”

“Tell me about Max.” Magnus never had the chance to meet Alec’s youngest sibling. He had heard things about Max, enough to know he probably would have liked him. 

For a moment, Alec sat in silence as he shifted through his memories. Max as a baby, held awkwardly in his big brother’s arms. Max in the library, reading through another book of about fairies. Max in a corner of the training room, eyes wide as he watched Alec and Jace train together. Where could he begin?

He began at the beginning, the natural order of things. 

Alec’s voice was quiet as he spoke, relaying all his loving memories of his little brother to Magnus. His words painted a picture of a young boy who had the potential to grow into a strong man, a worthy Shadowhunter. Magnus listened closely, ingraining Alec’s memories into his own mind of the beloved sibling he had never met. His thumb made slow, soothing trails down Alec’s arm as he spoke, providing quiet comfort at the more difficult memories.

When Alec had finished with the memories, they began to speak of hopes and dreams, what could have been but would never come to pass. There were many things Alec had hoped to experience with Max: teaching him archery, training in the rafters, sparring with various weapons. They spoke of Max’s potential, of possible dreams. Alec had thought speaking of such things would hurt, but it was the opposite; there was a pleasant warmth that came over him as he spoke of his sibling. There was still the pain of loss, but it was muted, an ache that would never really go away.

He wasn’t the sentimental type in some ways, but perhaps it had been the scattered wishes that had given Alec the closure he needed. Perhaps it had been time to heal and speak of his hopes with Magnus. Maybe it was both. Alec would never really know, but he was grateful all the same. And, he was glad of this moment with Magnus and the chance to share his memories. This wasn’t how he had pictured his day going, but it was better than he had imagined.


End file.
